


Iron And Silver, Lovers And Hounds

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Anal Sex, Body Horror, Buzzfeed Blast, Captivity, Dehumanization, Dubious Consent, Faeries Made Them Do It, M/M, Muzzles, No Lube, Piercings, Podfic Welcome, Rimming, descriptions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 22:51:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17414030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: So it turns out that sleeping in the middle of a stone circle is a bad idea. Ryan and Shane deal with the consequences.





	Iron And Silver, Lovers And Hounds

**Author's Note:**

> This is a dark fic. Please heed the tags!

Shane stood in the middle of a ballroom, painfully aware that he and Ryan were the only humans in the room. 

He’d seen other humans, since he’d arrived in this strange place where everyone was beautiful and sparkled like champagne at an engagement party. He was aware now - down to the very _core_ of his soul - that he was less than every single being here, with his gawky limbs and... nonstandard face. That was his appeal for these lovely, resplendent strangers; they weren’t used to faces that were long in the nose and short in the chin. They found crooked teeth and nonsymmetrical features exotic, gangliness cosmopolitan. 

Ryan was a hit on his own, but Ryan was gorgeous enough to fit right in if you didn’t look too closely. From a distance you couldn’t see the scar from when he fell on the bricks, or the weird… thing his hairline was doing as he got older. From a distance he looked like any of the other beautiful people milling about. 

The iron bracers around Ryan’s arms were hidden by the jacket of his suit, and the silver nail driven through his tongue was hidden by Ryan’s close-mouthed smiles. The collar was a bit… much, but there were plenty of Fae wandering around dressed in the whole BDSM aesthetic. The perfectly tailored suit and the collar combined to make a very appealing image - punk mixed with mainstream, like some street rebel had given up on his old ways but was clinging to some details with the very last of his ability. The blue of the suit jacket practically glowed against Ryan’s golden skin, contrasting with the whiteness of his shirt. 

“Shane,” said the Fae who sometimes wore a familiar face, “go fetch Ryan for me.” She gazed up at him, Her face soft with affection and right now Her eyes were wide and blue. 

“Of course, madam,” said Shane, bowing at her as he was expected to do.

The iron muzzle pulled his face a little further forward, and the collar around his neck rubbed the skin right under his chin tender, but it wasn’t too bad. The silver nail through his own tongue was… galling, but it didn’t hurt. The suit she’d put him in fit him better than any he’d ever owned back home, and he was aware that he was turning more heads than he ever would amongst ordinary humans. His suit swished when he walked, and his bare feet were quiet on the marble floor. 

Things weren’t entirely horrible here. 

The muzzle was uncomfortable, but She’d explained how it was _completely_ symbolic as Her hands had blistered from the iron while She’d carefully buckled the straps around the back of his head. The muzzle was made for an actual dog, so he had plenty of room to speak and eat, although food would required some maneuvering between the bars of the muzzle. It was, he had to admit, a striking image. 

“I want to send a message,” She’d said, “that your lovely face is _mine_.” There was a bit of threat in there. He’d made a snarky, snappy comment the night before, and, well… here was the muzzle. _You’re my Hound,_ the muzzle said, _and if you’re going to snap, I will deal with it._

And of course Shane had bowed and said… something. He didn’t remember. What did he need to remember for? He needed to grab Ryan, before She used Her magic to pull them closer to Her - that was always deeply unpleasant. 

Ryan was being flirted with by a wood nymph. Her hair seemed to be made of Spanish moss, although for all Shane knew that was a glamour. He looked up when Shane stepped in close, and his eyebrows drew together when he saw the muzzle across Shane’s face. “Hey, big guy,” he said. “I was just telling, uh… this lovely lady here about our show.” 

Nobody gave their real name here - it was one of the first mistakes the two of them had made. It was one of the myriad reasons they were stuck here for who knew how long. Ryan still stumbled over it - he was used to introducing himself, used to getting other people’s names. 

“I’ll definitely look it up when I get the chance,” she said, as her eyes ran up and down the two of them. Her hands were firmly in place, though, and Shane was grateful for that. Fae were _very_ touchy, when there wasn’t any iron in their way. 

Shane suspected that was why their owner had put them in iron - She was a blacksmith, lo those many years ago, and seemed to take a perverse delight in the way it made Her flesh sizzle. Other Fae, not so much. It wasn’t as blatant as a brand, but only just. At least it made the fairies keep their hands to themselves. 

“We’re wanted by…Herself,” said Shane, wrapping an arm around Ryan’s shoulders. He didn’t like referencing Her directly, but sometimes it was unavoidable. 

“Apologies,” said Ryan. He sketched a bow at the wood nymph, who smiled at him. 

Her teeth were like river stones - smooth, round, and polished. 

“Are we, uh… are we in trouble?” Ryan looked up at Shane and he traced his hand along the strap between Shane’s eyebrows. “That looks extremely uncomfortable, for the record.”

“It’s not too bad,” said Shane, and he squeezed Ryan’s shoulder and then let go. “I’ll get it off when we get home. How’re your new bracelets?”

“I dunno,” said Ryan. “There’s something kinda Wonder Woman-y about them.” 

“I dunno if you could pull off the bustier,” said Shane thoughtfully. He hooked a finger in Ryan’s pocket, and the iron of Ryan’s bracer was stiff against his arm.

“I’d look fucking amazing, and you know it,” said Ryan as they made their way towards Her. They wove through the crowd easily - the iron on their bodies made everyone give them a wide berth. 

One of the walls was a giant mirror, and Shane glanced over at himself and tried not to frown. The muzzle gave him the appearance of a snout, and it made him wonder if he was being treated like a captive human being or an animal dressed up in human clothes. “Don’t spread ideas,” Shane said fervently. He didn’t need any other things to make him look stranger. He was trying to hold on to whatever dignity he had left. 

Then they were standing in front of Her.

They both bowed, because that was what they did, and She smiled at them with Her ever-changing eyes. “My lovely hounds,” She said, and reached up with Her burnt hands to hook into one finger into the D-ring of each of their collars. “We’re to be seen by the Queen. I’m going to show just how beautiful and obedient my hounds are.” 

Shane glanced at Ryan over the iron muzzle, and Ryan looked back at him. 

“Are you complaining?” Her voice was silky, but a shiver of fear still slithered through Shane’s belly. There were worse things than muzzles, things that he didn’t want to think about. 

“No, Madam,” said Shane. “Not at all. It is an honor to be presented by you.”

She cupped his cheek and Her finger pressed against the iron of his muzzle, Her flesh sizzling like a burger on a grill. “That’s what I thought.” He could smell Her skin cooking, and all the flesh on his body tried to inch away from Her. He forced himself to stay still, and to even lean into it as Her fingers stroked through his hair. 

The leash came out of thin air - magic, which his rational brain was still mad about. Why was there magic? It didn’t make any _sense_! If the Fae had been here for so long, why hadn’t they done anything about… well, all of the shit that was going on in the world? How had they stayed hidden for such a long time? How -

Shane was yanked out of his reverie by a pull of the leash, and then he glanced over to see Ryan leashed as well. They were being pulled behind Her, and they both fell into step at heel, the way they’d been trained. Shane shortened his steps to keep from overtaking Her. It almost made him trip over his own feet, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was not making Her angry. What mattered was not catching the notice of any of the other Fae around them. 

Sooner or later She’d lose interest in them, and they could go. Until then… well. 

They entered the throne room, and it was almost blindingly white. Shane’s bare feet slapped on the marble, and he stared at them to not look at the Queen. His heart was beating very loudly in his ears, and his face was heating up. He wished he could reach out and hold Ryan’s hand, but… that wasn’t presently an option. 

When they were back in their own world, he’d hold Ryan’s hand all the time. He’d wear shoes. He’d never let anything metal near his face again. 

And now he was being dragged by the leash, pulled down onto his knees. He let himself crouch down, his eyes on the marble. Her hand was in his hair, and She and the Queen talked, using many flowery metaphors he couldn’t follow. He was a Hound. He didn’t need to be involved in any of this. He was a Hound. He just had to remember that. When he went home he’d be a person again, but for now he was a Hound. Then the hand in his hair pulled his head up, and he was looking the Queen in the face. 

Her face was beautiful, but it was the flat, cold beauty of a silver plate. Her eyes were the color of patinated copper - the same green as the sun through the leaves, but dull. It seemed to drink all the light in. Shane couldn’t tell what color her skin was, or her hair - was it because it was hard to describe, or was it because it wouldn’t stay in his brain? There was terror growing in him - some part of him wanted to turn around and run out, baying like the Hound they called him.

“A wonderful set, these Hounds,” said the Queen, resting her perfect chin on an equally perfect hand. “Are they brothers?”

“Lovers,” She said. “I found them in my country.”

_You stole us from our sleeping bags, you mean,_ flashed through Shane’s head, but he squashed it down carefully. It wouldn’t do to carry around rebellious stuff like that in the back of his head. He didn’t think She could read minds, but it was a bad idea to tempt fate. 

“How lucky you are, for such a beautiful pair,” said the Queen. 

“Indeed I am,” She said. 

There was something going on, and Shane was still staring into the Queen’s horrible eyes. He couldn’t understand why anyone would ever fall in love with a Fae, why anyone would ever willingly go with them. Sure, they were perfect, but it was the perfection of a mannequin, or maybe a statue. Something cold, unfeeling. 

The Queen smiled at Shane, and Shane was reminded that for most species baring the teeth was a sign of aggression, not friendliness. 

His stomach did a little flip, but She let go of his hair and he looked back down at the ground, grateful for the respite. He let the talk wash over him, and strained to hear Ryan. 

Ryan’s breathing was a little labored, but this was a hard position. Were the bracers chafing him? The straps of the muzzle rubbed Shane raw in a few spots, and he was going to have dents in his hair. They’d be able to take off their iron when they went back to Her house. Until then, they could endure. 

“You are dismissed,” said the Queen, and glory of glories, Shane and Ryan were tugged upright and led out of the throne room. 

* * *

She didn’t even try to hide Her sigh of relief when they were back among everyone else, and that brought on titters from the gathered Fae. 

“Nobody likes going to see the Queen,” said a man with the legs of a goat and a handsome, sharp face. “Don’t worry about it too much.” It wasn’t entirely obvious if he was talking to Her or to him. 

“Thank you,” said Shane, just in case, ever polite in the face of someone who could easily kill him. 

The man smiled at him and leaned in to whisper in Shane’s ear. And stopped, presumably by the muzzle, and shuffled off as She glared after him.

She unclipped the leash from Shane’s collar and cupped his cheek again, the metal burning Her flesh again. “I’ll let you to wander around a little,” She said. “Hounds don’t do any good cooped up.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” said Shane, and he gave Her what he hoped was a winning smile. He’d gotten better at smiling since he’d ended up here. He even remembered to make his eyes crinkle up at the edges. 

“I’ll call you when I need you,” She added, and he kept the smile on his face - he hated when She called them. It was a magical compulsion, and it made Shane’s bones itch. 

Ryan slid closer, and his fingers slipped into Shane’s palm. 

Shane glanced sidelong at him and squeezed his fingers. He smiled, genuinely this time. “There’s a hedge maze,” he said. “Wanna check it out?”

“Let’s do it,” said Ryan.

* * *

The hedge maze was, of course, perfect. Perfect and over the top, so extra it was almost embarrassing. The Fae were still milling about in the main room, so the two of them would be left alone for a while. 

… hopefully.

“Do you think they’re gonna put a muzzle on me next?” Ryan’s voice was very quiet, and his palm was very sweaty. 

“I don’t think so,” said Shane. “She said something about not wanting anyone to steal my silver tongue.” He stuck his tongue out for emphasis, waggling it. The silver nail clacked against his muzzle. 

“We’re both pretty silver-tongued,” said Ryan, sticking his own tongue out with its own nail. The light of the perfectly round, silver moon caught the nail, and it flashed like a quarter in the sun. Even the moon here did too much. 

“You’ve got such a pretty… everything,” Shane said, indicating Ryan’s whole body. “She doesn’t want people touching the goods. She couldn’t figure out which bit of me is the goods, so she just went for the most… visible part.” He tapped his finger against the iron and made a face - he hated them both, so much. The muzzle, and his face, for catching Her interest. 

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Ryan countered. “You’ve got a pretty ugly mug. No wonder it’s so novel for them.”

“You fit right in with them,” said Shane. 

“Maybe,” said Ryan, “but they like you better.” 

“They only like me better because I look weird,” Shane replied. 

As they walked through the maze the hedges seemed to be getting older and more wild. 

“I like your mug,” said Ryan. “Without all of that business on your face.” 

“It’s probably my own fault,” Shane admitted, his hands in his pockets and no doubt ruining the line of the suit. He took some joy out of ruining things that She gave him - in all the little rebellions he could afford, even if they were small and ultimately pointless. 

“You need to learn to keep your mouth shut,” Ryan said, and he shot Shane a sympathetic look as they turned another corner. 

“I do,” Shane agreed. “But it was promised that I’d get this thing off when we get back to the place we’ve been staying.” The sentence construction was clunky and awkward, but even mentioning Her could get Her attention if She was in a paying-attention sort of mood. 

“That’s good,” said Ryan. “Promises are always kept by these folks.”

There was an awkward silence but for the soft sound of them walking in the dirt. Ryan’s fingers were laced with Shane’s, and his fingertips pressed into the backs of Shane’s knuckles. 

Anxiety curdled in Shane’s stomach along with something like panic, but this wasn’t the time or the place for it. When they got back home, Shane would have the freakout to end all freakouts. 

Until then, he’d be fine. He just had to be like the iron: repellant to Fae, strong, sturdy. Dependable. Maybe that was why Fae didn’t like iron - it wasn’t pretty, it just got the job done. Or maybe he was spending too much time in his own head and he was becoming liable to navel gaze. 

“I’ve never been in a hedge maze before,” said Ryan, and then he cleared his throat. “I think I’d like it, under… different circumstances.”

“Yeah,” said Shane. 

A few more quiet steps.

“Do you know what I miss?” Ryan’s voice was quiet.

“Lakers games, right?” Shane tried to make his voice teasing. 

“Well, yeah, that’s a given,” said Ryan, laughing. “But no. You have to promise not to laugh.”

“I’ll do my best,” Shane promised. 

“I miss ugly dogs,” said Ryan. 

“Hm?” Shane raised an eyebrow. 

“Ugly dogs,” Ryan repeated. “You know, like… those pugs that look like their eyes are going to pop out of their heads, or the ones with the ugly underbites. The ones that are crimes against nature.” 

Shane snorted. “What do you miss about them?” They turned another corner. 

“I miss stuff that’s not pretty,” Ryan said, and he said it so softly that Shane had to tilt his head down to hear better. 

“Me too,” Shane said, equally quiet. “I miss the way plastic bags would skitter in the wind.”

“Oh my god, you are _not_ going to start referencing _American Beauty_ at me,” Ryan told Shane. “There is a time and a place!”

“Is there?” Shane put on a silly voice. 

“And it ain’t now!” Ryan waggled his eyebrows and Shane threw his head back, cackling.

The metal of the muzzle banged against the bridge of his nose, which was… unpleasant. His laughter was ugly and he made it uglier, because he could, and because he needed some ugliness in his life. 

“I mean,” said Shane, “I would personally say it’s _never_ a good time for that movie, but then it’s always given me the creeps.”

“It’s a classic!” Ryan argued.

“It’s a classic about a pedophile,” Shane countered. “Anyway, there’s that creepy South African version -”

“Yeah, but that one is all about the horrors of being queer and self-hating,” said Ryan, making a dismissive hand gesture. “I don’t need to watch movies about that.” 

“I miss movies,” Shane said, and it came out more plaintive than he meant it to. 

“Me too, big guy,” said Ryan. 

They reached the center of the maze. There was a grand fountain made of the same marble as in the Queen’s throne room, and water tinkled through a series of pipes that the Fae no doubt found enchanting. The whole scene was picturesque. Revoltingly so.

Ryan sighed and made his way towards the fountain, letting go of Shane’s hand. 

Shane missed the warmth almost immediately, and he followed after Ryan, watching as Ryan sat on the rim. 

Ryan’s feet were in the water, the cuffs of his pants getting wet. 

“Come on,” said Ryan. “It feels great.”

“Is there anything in there that will eat my feet?” Shane eyed the water - the Fae had a… thing for unpleasant things in pretty packages. 

That explained… well. The whole business.

“So when we go back to the… when we go back home,” said Ryan, “we’re going to do the most ridiculous video ever.”

“‘Are… They Real? Watch This Video to Find Out!’” Shane gave up on his trepidation and sat on the rim of the fountain, his feet in the water. They sat snugly together, hip to hip and thigh to thigh. 

“I’m so sorry about this,” Ryan said, his voice very low - Shane could barely hear it over the water.

“It’s not your fault,” Shane said, leaning his head on top of Ryan’s so that Ryan’s forehead pressed into his temple. 

“I was the one who said we should check if… the stories were true,” Ryan said, his voice still very soft. His hand was in Shane’s again, and the fingers of Shane’s other hand went to the edge of one of his bracers where it made the fabric of Ryan's jacket bulge. 

“Yeah, but I gotta say I don’t think _either_ of us could have seen this coming,” said Shane. “I’m not mad at you. I promise.” 

“Thanks,” said Ryan. “I mean it.”

“I wish I could kiss you,” Shane said, and he let some of his feelings slide into his voice. He shouldn’t have been so embarrassed by it, and yet. 

“When you’ve got that thing off of your face,” Ryan said, and he slid a finger between the metal slats of the muzzle to brush his fingertip over Shane’s lips, tracing their outline. 

Shane pressed a little kiss to the tip of Ryan’s finger. 

Ryan sighed, and rested his finger there on top of Shane’s lips. “Do you ever worry about us… changing?” 

“What, like,” Shane lowered his voice, “Tam Lin?” 

It was generally a bad idea to say _that_ name around here - even in all these years later. The Fae didn’t like being reminded of having been one-upped. 

“Nah,” said Ryan. “More like… becoming like them. Inside, or out.” 

“I don’t think so,” said Shane. “If we could become like them, I think they’d make sure that we couldn’t.” 

“How do you know they haven’t? With the iron and with… everything.” Ryan’s finger was still over Shane's lips inside the muzzle, and Shane kissed Ryan’s fingertip again because he could. 

“If it starts burning, we can worry about it then,” said Shane. “Until that point… well.”

“Well?” 

“Well.” Shane pressed his forehead against Ryan’s and Ryan sighed, a wave of hot air passing over Shane’s face. 

Ryan was warm and he smelled like himself. He smelled _human_ \- a little gross, a little off-putting, but Shane wanted to roll in it. He was so sick of being surrounded by everything being perfect, being appealing. He missed home, where things weren’t perfect and he didn’t feel like an ape in a suit, traipsing through a china shop. He was tired of being a lesser thing, tired of being reminded that he stank of sweat and was rotting from the inside out. 

They shared a moment like that, hands tangled together and breathing each other’s breath. Ryan would have marks on his nose from the muzzle. Shane’s neck was getting sore, and his toes were pruning up. 

He’d manage. 

“We should get going soon,” Ryan said, after who knew how long. “We’re probably being missed.” 

_I can’t wait to go back home and be able to talk in complete sentences, without worrying how it might get misinterpreted,_ thought Shane.Then he groaned, pulling away from Ryan - pulling away from everything - because his very _bones_ itched.

Ryan wrinkled his nose, his expression pained. “I think we’re wanted,” he said. 

“Well,” said Shane, forcing a smile and making the muzzle chafe against his temples, “we’d best be going, huh?” 

“Right,” said Ryan. “Well. It was nice.”

“It was.”

* * *

Shane and Ryan walked into the ballroom, and everyone was looking at them. 

_Everyone._

Oh god.

They walked to Her and She smiled at them, but it didn’t reach Her eyes. 

The Queen sat on a raised dais behind a table, looking out at the ballroom and the assembled individuals. 

She was standing there near the Queen as well, and they stood at Her heel - always good loyal Hounds. She put a hand on the back of each of their necks, slipping Her fingers under their collars. Her fingers rested there like an iron bar. Like the iron on Shane’s face. 

“So you called your Hounds back,” said the Queen, smiling like a cat looking at a mouse in a trap. 

“You did ask for them, My Lady,” She said. 

“You say they’re lovers,” said the Queen. “They haven’t acted like it.”

Shane froze, then shot Ryan a look without thinking.

Ryan looked back, and he was smiling. It didn’t look like a real smile, but it wasn’t like the Fae could tell. 

“Were you lying to me?” The Queen’s voice was like poisoned silk. 

“No,” She said. “No, I was not.” 

“Prove it,” said the Queen. 

“Well,” She said, looking over at Ryan and Shane, “prove it.”

“How would you like us to prove it, ma’am?” Ryan was using his on-camera voice, his on-camera smile. It was the same combination that had gotten them into quite a few locations they shouldn’t have been able to get into.

It was how they’d gotten into the park with the stone circle, come to think of it. 

Shane licked his lips. 

“Lovers love,” said the Queen. “Love each other.”

“We do,” said Shane. His throat was very dry. He could already tell where this was going, and he didn’t like it.

“Show us,’ said the Queen. 

“I… I can’t… with this on my face,” said Shane, and he was making an excuse. He knew he was making an excuse. They knew he knew he was making an excuse. It was all one big spiral of excuses. 

“Lovers are more than faces,” said the Queen. “Or are you not lovers at all?” 

“We are,” Ryan said, reaching out for Shane’s hand.

Shane squeezed Ryan’s fingers. 

“Show us,” said the Queen. 

They both looked at Her, and She… stepped back, one eyebrow raised. “You heard the Queen,” She said. “You’re lovers. Show us.”

Ryan stepped closer to Shane, putting his arms around Shane’s waist. Shane draped his arms around Ryan’s shoulders, and he let Ryan kiss along his neck, tilting his head back to give him better access. The weight of the muzzle crushed against the bridge of his nose, and he wrinkled it. 

Shane sighed, relaxing into Ryan's touch. This wasn’t the first time they’d kissed in front of a crowd, or… well, many other things. Although the Fae weren’t usually this blatant about it. 

Ryan’s mouth was hot and wet, and his hands were still on Shane’s hips, untucking his shirt. Then Ryan’s fingers were on Shane’s bare skin and Shane was shuddering, his fingers clutching at Ryan’s shoulders and bunching up the fabric of his shirt. 

“I can’t… Your Majesty,” Shane said hastily, “I can’t give pleasure to Ryan like this. To my lover. With this on my face.” 

Either they’d take the muzzle off or they’d lose their taste for it. Probably.

“You’ll find a way,” the Queen said, and looked at them expectantly. 

Shane shuddered and slid two fingers under the collar, then leaned forward so he could whisper in Ryan’s ear. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

“Don’t be,” said Ryan. “We’ve fucked before. Can’t be that much different, right?” His voice was faintly tremulous, and his fingers were very delicate as they traced over the hollows of Shane’s hip bones. “I’ll make it good for you, okay?”

Shane snorted. “You are such a nice guy, you know that?” He kept his voice quiet, trying not to notice the way the space around them was emptying out until there was nobody within touching distance. 

“I do my best,” Ryan demurred, then, “I think I know what they want.”

“I do too,” said Shane, and he sighed. “How do you, uh… how do you want to do this?” It wasn’t that sex with Ryan was a thing he didn’t like - hell, sex with Ryan in front of an audience, in a completely different set of circumstances… it might have actually been _hot_. 

But… well. 

Well. 

“How about… how about I eat you out?” Ryan’s voice was only a little nervous. “I’d kiss you some more, but… well, impatience is a thing.”

The Fae were not known for thelr attention spans. Shane didn’t want to think about that too hard. 

“You romantic, you,” said Shane, his tone wry.

“I’ll make out with you for half an hour,” Ryan promised. “When we go back home, I’ll… I’ll buy you ugly roses and we'll watch nature documentaries.”

Shane took Ryan’s hands in his own, pressing the front of the muzzle against the backs of them in a gesture as close to a kiss as he could give. “We’ll get out of here,” he said quietly, and he closed his eyes. 

Okay. It was just him and Ryan here. Nobody else. They were… in some old haunt. Everything smelled like metal, tasted like metal. 

When he got home he was going to eat off of plastic cutlery - he'd never have metal near his face again. 

"We will," said Ryan as he cupped Shane's cheek, his fingers sliding between the leather straps. "You ready to get your world rocked?"

"Someone has a high opinion of himself," Shane said, and his voice only had a little bit of a shake to it. "So what are you planning?"

Ryan told Shane. 

Shane tried not to let his trepidation show on his face. "Sounds good," he said, and he bumped his forehead against Ryan's again, trying to get his bearings. 

He could do this. 

They'd be fine.

* * *

Shane was on his knees on the marble floor. More specifically, he was face down and ass up, like something out of a porno. It helped to think of it as being like porn - the two of them on a set in some sleazy McMansion, someone circling them with a camera. When this was all done they'd go get Chipotle. Ryan would eat it too fast, then they'd -

The nail through Ryan's tongue was cold against the cheek of Shane's ass, shattering the fantasy, and Shane shuddered and pressed his face into his arms. The muzzle was pressing into his arms too, and the marble was going to bruise his knees. He was sweating through his fancy shirt, the fabric damp and sticky against his skin. He could hear the commentary around them; the Fae always had something to say, were always watching, were always tittering to each other. 

Shane did his best to put on a show - that was what the Fae wanted. They wanted to watch the humans fuck, and Shane could at the very least do _that_ , right? He moaned, probably louder than he usually would, as Ryan held his ass open, licking gently along his hole. Ryan had been careful as he had taken off Shane’s pants and his own blazer, even rolling up his own sleeves. He’d even parted Shane’s ass very carefully, although the whole assembled Court could see all of Shane’s… well, everything. As if Ryan could pretend that the two of them weren’t doing this for an audience. 

_I will never be embarrassed about getting a prostate exam again,_ flashed through Shane's head, and he smiled into his arms in spite of himself. A whole bunch of intolerable things were suddenly a lot more tolerable, come to think of it. He moaned again, a little harder, and his cock twitched. Ryan's tongue was sliding inside of him awkwardly, the nail making it difficult. 

Turned out, having a piece of metal hammered through your tongue made doing things like eating ass difficult. _Who would have thought!_ There was a slightly manic edge to Shane's thoughts and he wasn't sure how he felt about it, except that his heart pounded in his ears and his cock was hard, dripping down onto the marble floor. He opened his eyes just enough to peer through his eyelashes, and he saw a sea of hooves, feet, and long, sinuous legs. 

Of course the Fae even had nice legs.

Ryan's tongue was clumsily delving deeper, and Ryan was drooling - his wet saliva dripped down the backs of Shane's thighs and down his balls. It was slimy and cooling, but it was such a _real_ sensation that Shane clung to it. He strained his ears to hear whatever noises Ryan made, as the Fae around them shuffled and mumbled but otherwise kept quiet.

Shane wasn't sure which idea was worse - the assembled Fae watching and then deciding they all wanted to fuck the humans, or the Fae just... watching, the way Shane had watched a movie at a bar. What was more objectifying? To be a sexual plaything, or just the entertainment? 

Ryan's tongue left Shane's ass and was replaced by his finger. Ryan panted his forehead lay against the curve of Shane's spine, and Shane ground back against him trying to work through the intrusion. He clenched around the pressure and then relaxed, letting Ryan's finger into him. It curled, and he sobbed as it pressed on his prostate, his cock leaking more pre-come on the floor and leaving a gooey puddle. 

They were just beasts, making a mess of the lovely ballroom floor. Of course they were.

Once they were back home, Shane was going to fuck Ryan, was going to be fucked by Ryan, in their own bedrooms. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the exact layout of Ryan's bedroom: the movie posters, Ryan's ridiculously overstuffed closet, the exact order of Ryan's sneaker set up. And then Ryan added another finger and twisted, and Shane's hips jerked forward as heat bloomed in his gut like a rose. Shane was already beginning to sweat, soaking into his fine shirt, leaving it clammy against his skin. At least Shane had taken off the suit jacket  
\- he was just in his shirt sleeves, scruffy and disheveled. Ryan twisted his fingers again, and...

_Fuck_. 

"Such tender lovers," said the Queen, and Shane bit his lip to keep from saying anything, to keep from doing anything he'd regret. He didn't want to anger the Queen. He would get fucked - under different circumstances he _liked_ being fucked! - and they'd go back to Her house and he'd be able to bathe, to take the muzzle off, to sleep. 

Until then, he'd just endure.

"I'm ready," Shane said, his voice rough. 

Ryan pressed a kiss to a spot right under Shane's left shoulder blade. "You sure?" His voice was rumbling through his chest, up against Shane's back. 

"Yeah," said Shane. "Do it. Fuck me. Please." 

"Right," said Ryan, unsteadily. "Gimme a minute, big guy." 

There were titters around them and Shane bared his teeth, glad he didn't have to hide his expression, glad he didn't have to do anything with his face but wear it. The muzzle dug into his arms, an unpleasant reminder - as if he needed another one. He sighed and almost sobbed when the blunt head of Ryan’s cock pressed against his hole - he wasn't entirely hard, but hard enough to slide in. 

… maybe “slide” was a bit too generous. There was stretch, there was pull. What Shane wouldn’t give for some good lube around here. Still… it was good to be filled. Ryan’s cock was thick and hot, heavy and _real_. It pulsed with Ryan’s heartbeat, and Shane clenched around it just to hear Ryan’s shudder.

“Fuck,” Ryan said roughly. 

“I know, right?” Shane looked over his shoulder at Ryan and gave a half-hearted grin through the muzzle. 

Ryan’s face was pained, but his cock flexed inside of Shane and Shane shuddered, grinding back against it. 

“Romantic hounds,” said one of the Fae, and Shane saw Ryan’s jaw clench. His fingers clutched at Shane’s hips.

“Let’s switch it up,” Shane said. 

Ryan paused. “You can’t exactly, uh, prep me,” he pointed out, and his hips rolled forward. He was fully hard now, his cock apparently of the opinion that this was business as usual, regardless of the circumstances. Pleasure was pleasure, after a certain point. At least, that’s what Shane was telling himself as arousal beat down on him like a pair of steel toed boots. 

“You can do me on my back,” Shane countered, then raised his voice. “We are lovers, after all.”

Ryan gave a nervous smile, but he pulled out and helped Shane shift positions. 

Flat on his back, Shane kept his eyes on Ryan’s. It was… well, it was uncomfortable, honestly - a level of intensity that Shane wouldn’t normally want to engage in. Sure, they fucked face to face, but prolonged eye contact? It was like something out of a cheesy romance novel. Shane and Ryan didn’t have sex like that - they joked and laughed, it was all awkward and fun and maybe a little cheesy, but what sex isn’t? Not like… well, _this_. But concentrating on each other was much better than looking at any of the gathered Fae. When they got back home to the world of humans, there would probably be a bunch of long talks about feelings and dialing back the intensity. They’d have to learn how to be normal human beings again. 

For now, though… well, you did what you had to survive.

Shane sighed when Ryan pushed in again, and then he made a surprised noise as Ryan grabbed him by the thighs, pulling Shane’s knees up onto his shoulders, and... oh, that was deep. Very deep. 

Ryan leaned forward, nearly folding Shane in half, and Shane’s hips would ache later but who cared. Ryan filled Shane’s field of vision, and Ryan’s hands were in his. This would have been disgustingly sappy if they weren’t on a ballroom floor surrounded by whispering Fae.

“We need some Barry Manilow playing in the background,” Shane said quietly, and Ryan snickered. His face was a few inches away from Shane’s, his hips thrusting in deep and slow. 

“Some rose petals, too? Maybe champagne?” Ryan did some kind of hip shimmy, which rubbed Shane’s cock against his belly - just enough of a tease to get him worked up. 

“But would it be actual champagne, or just sparkling white wine?” Shane squirmed and he clenched around Ryan’s cock, making Ryan gasp and his hips jerk forward. 

Ryan squeezed Shane’s fingers, and Shane squeezed back. He licked his lips and the silver nail caught the light. The bracers must have been chafing him, as sweaty as Ryan was. The iron caught the light and gleamed back dully, less ostentatious than the silver but just as present. 

“You’re being a pedant,” Ryan said, and his hips began to stutter.

“It’s what I do,” Shane countered, and he let go of Ryan’s hand to reach between them to stroke his own cock. “I think, uh… if I go off quicker, will it get you off?”

“Probably,” said Ryan. “Anything I can do to help?” He licked his lips, which were swollen, red and shiny. 

Shane’s cock twitched in his hand. “Remember the time that I blew you on the set, during the holiday party?” It had been a surreptitious thing - they were still tentatively trying the romance thing, and Ryan was still getting over how spooked he was about doing _anything_ physical with a guy.

“Oh… oh yeah,” Ryan said, and he moaned, his cock twitching as well. “And afterwards, we went… we went back to the party.”

“Yeah,” Shane said, and he was beginning to stroke himself a little faster, remembering. “You were in those jeans, the ones I like so much -”

“Still in my closet,” Ryan said quietly. 

“When we get home,” Shane said, “wear them for me.” He did something particularly clever with his wrist and something equally clever with his internal muscles, which made Ryan’s whole body go completely stiff. “Y’like that?”

“Please,” Ryan said, and his voice cracked. “Again?”

Shane did it again, his hips bucking as he fucked himself onto Ryan’s cock and into his own fist. He was going to come if he kept this up. He _was_.

Ryan leaned forward, his mouth by Shane’s ear, and when he spoke it was barely audible. “Before we go, we’ll put the muzzle on Her,” he said, and he gave a particularly savage thrust, his hand covering Shane’s. He made Shane squeeze and Shane moaned, from the words and from the sensation.

“I love you too,” Shane said, loud enough for the assembled Fae to hear. Let them think that Ryan was embarrassed to speak his feelings. “I… yes!”

Shane closed his eyes and he saw Her face, wearing the muzzle - _iron blistering Her pretty face, as She clawed at the leather straps_. He saw Her wearing the bracers and _screaming as her skin burned and burned, all the way to the bone_. He pictured her wearing a full suit of iron armor and _shrieking as she was ruined, turned to nothing but burned skin and blackened bones_. His whole body went taut, and he saw lights behind his eyes. He sobbed as he came, and actual tears dripped down his face - he could hear the Fae exclaiming in delight, because of course they were.

Ryan shuddered, his eyes sliding closed, and Shane watched Ryan’s un-perfect face as he came. Ryan’s cock swelled and pulsed, shooting come deep inside of Shane, and it was… hot, it was gooey, it was _gross_.

Shane reveled in it - reveled in the chance to be disgusting, in the chance to not be a perfect Fae plaything. In that moment he was just a Hound, and he could live with that. 

“We’ll get out of here,” Ryan said quietly, as the Queen made some grand pronouncement and She came walking towards them. “I promise. We’ll slit Her throat with an iron knife.” 

Shane made eye contact with Ryan, and then he put on his best smile and looked up at Her. In his mind’s eye he saw her burning alive again, and he smiled wider behind his iron muzzle.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was honestly inspired by a really hot picture of a person in a muzzle, and I went from there.
> 
> https://twitter.com/alexunlawful/status/967640605881909248


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